


Weekend Work

by itsOblivious



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: First Time, Incest, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Power Imbalance, Recreational Drug Use, Substance Abuse, dubcon, mentions of human trafficking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28325229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsOblivious/pseuds/itsOblivious
Summary: Some unfortunate Rick and Morty have an run in with a very special Miami Morty and their night does not go as planned.Written for Secret Santa 2020!
Relationships: Morty Smith/Morty Smith
Kudos: 2
Collections: Rick and Morty Secret Santa 2020





	Weekend Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thesupremeladymarmalade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesupremeladymarmalade/gifts).



> Merry heckin' Christmas y'all! This fic is a secret santa gift for Thesupremeladymarmalade (@Thesupremelady1 on twitter for art of her boy) and features her Evil Miami Morty (Shortened to EMM throughout the story). Out of her requests I chose to do some dubcon Mortycest, with a little bit of uneven power dynamics if you squint. I've I hope I have done her boy some justice with this fic. I had so so much fun writing it!

“Are you sure you want to keep waiting?” One of EMM’s henchmen shouts over the music. EMM only huffs in response, swiveling around on his stool at the bar to gaze into the crowd. Condensation slides down the glass of his fourth long island, forming a sizable puddle on the bar top. 

He should leave; slip out with some ready and willing Morty and get what he needs to enjoy his night. Cursing himself for ever actually expecting a Rick to be any sort of punctual, he shrugs off the white fur coat around his shoulders and tosses in the empty seat next to him, seething and takes another thorough scan of the crowded club. Across the sea of bodies and past the DJ he catches eyes on one of his loyal Ricks, but he only receives a shrug back at his questioning look. They've been combing the club hoping to catch sight of EMM’s contact, some coke loving Rick who had reached out to pawn off his Morty a few hours ago, after begging his henchmen for some sort of audience with him. The Morty in question wasn't with him though, and the “quick ten minute trip” to get him turned to thirty then fifty. 

And here he sits, sweaty and livid under the neon lights, ready for the adrenaline of this deal to fuel the rest of his evening that was rapidly turning sour.

“I should've never said anything,” he mutters to himself bitterly, “I really could’ve walked out with any one of these ditzy assholes by now.” He wasn't even planning on doing a job tonight, having come to the club to knock back a few drinks with his favorite group of Rick guards but instead getting roped into what was  _ supposed  _ to be a quick acquisition of goods. 

The bartender slides another drink in his direction, sensing his frustration and EMM blows her a kiss in appreciation.  Sucking down half his drink in one sip, EMM gazes longingly at the dancefloor, where Ricks and Mortys, mostly Ricks, bounce and sway with the music. Flashes of skin and grinding hips has EMM growing more frustrated by the second and he stands abruptly, intending to slip into the writhing crowd when he catches sight of one of his henchmen ushering a Rick and Morty his way, pushing through the same bodies he wished so desperately to join. 

Rick had changed clothes for some reason, swapping his lab coat for a flashier Navy blazer and cleaner sweater, while Morty looked as average as any other yellow shirt on the Citadel. They both stumble over their feet as they are shoved through the crowd and to the bar.  As they approach, EMM sits back down with a huff and pins the offending Rick with an icy glare. Of course the man is already stuttering out his apologies, which EMM is blatantly ignoring to eye the boy at his side. The Morty is clearly under the influence of something, blown pupils fixed unblinkingly on the floor as he sways in place. “You wanna tell me why he looks braindead? I can't take goods too damaged to reuse,” he asks, interrupting the rambling excuses. 

“Look, that-thats what im trying to tell you, he didn’t wanna come ok? He’s just- he’ll be fine in a couple hours, a couple minutes even! I swear,” the Rick jumps to defend himself, shouting over the music, “B-besides, I didn't want him sober enough to realize im selling him ya know?” 

“Selling him?” EMM says, “Who said anything about money, honey? I’m here to take him off your hands, not barter Mortys for pennies, which is what he’s worth by the way, no offense,” he nudges Morty at that, “Besides, you had me waiting too fucking long, Rick, why the hell should I pay you?”

“A-are you fucking kidding me, are you- y-y-you’re not gonna give me anything for him?” Rick is red in the face and starting to bow up at EMM, chest puffing up and fists clenching at his sides. He considers swinging, refusing to be swindled by a kid, but a firm hand on his shoulder from one of EMM’s Ricks stops him. Instead he throws his hands up as a sign of good faith, even stepping away from EMM for good measure as he contemplates his next move. He straightens out his shirt and clears his throat, “Alright you-you're right, no need to lose my cool. So-so there's nothing I can get back from you, huh? N-not even some of your time? Maybe... a dance?”

EMM actually laughs out loud at the middle ground he is trying to create, his guard even giving a chuckle at the idea. This makes Rick flush again and he opens his mouth to protest, but EMM beats him to the punch by offering a suggestion. 

“Look,  _ sweetie _ , how about this,” he intends to sound condescending but Rick's eyes light up at the pet name, “Let’s all go somewhere a little more private and I’ll give you a little show hmm? Hands off though, you don't get to touch me.” Mentally EMM is gagging at the negotiation, but considering Rick had already wasted a lot of his time, he was pressed to get this over with.

“A show huh?” The sleazy smile is already creeping across Rick's face as he eyes him up and down, gaze lingering far too long at the edge of his spotless white miniskirt.  _ Yeah that's it old man, take the bait, _ EMM thinks as adjusts his legs, spreading them ever so slightly, revealing a flash of golden underwear before settling back in place. 

EMM hums his response, “Yeah, a quick, private show, and then I take this one off your hands,” he says as he ghosts his fingers down Morty’s face. He seems to notice the hand on his face, leaning into the touch a little, bleary eyes blinking closed for a moment.  _ Well at least he will be easy to handle _ EMM thinks as he gives his face a little pat before dropping his hand, causing the boy to blink back awake, sort of.

The man rocks back on his heels, rolling the decision over in his head until he slings an arm around Morty’s shoulders and offers a genuine smile, “A-alright babe-b-baby, where do you want us?”

“Perfect,” EMM quickly flags the bartender, “I’ll be back to close my tab soon ok?” he says before he grabs his coat and motions towards the ever present henchman, who takes the lead to guide them away from the bar and through the crowds into a hallway almost completely obscured in the darkness of the club. The walk is short, but Rick has enough time to take a few hits up his nose with whatever powder he was fond of, not so subtly offering some to his Rick counterpart. 

The room they’re led to is practically a closet with a couch, barely enough to fit all four of them, so the henchman posts himself outside the door to wait for the exchange. The heavy beat of the music can still be heard pretty loudly through the door, though muffled enough they don't have to shout. At this point the dazed Morty has found his voice, and has started to slur out unintelligible questions to his Rick, half formed whats, and whys trailing off into a blurb of nonsense. He is flagrantly ignored, shoved onto the couch and dismissed as Rick turns his full attention back to EMM.

Rick reaches out to grab at EMM’s hand, grazing his fingers with his own, “So, w-what’s it- what’re we gonna do here baby?” He asks, sniffing every so often to clear his nose. 

EMM’s patience is wearing thin and he snatches his hand out of reach before Rick can grab it and responds through gritted teeth, “Nothing if you keep talking like that, fucking sit down and keep it in your pants, jeez. This is a hands off show, you got that?” He kicks the man hard in the shins as motivation to get moving. Eager to oblige, Rick is quick to take his seat on the couch next to his Morty without further resistance, pinning him with an eager stare once he's settled with his legs spread wide. 

Taking his cue, EMM tosses his coat on the couch between them and saunters over, throwing his hair over his shoulder before settling down in Morty’s lap, drawing a surprised gasp from the boy beneath him and a green glare from the Rick beside them. EMM never sees the glare, however, but he can feel it burning holes where their skin touches, so he wraps an arm around Morty’s neck to pull him closer, ghosting kisses along his jawline and throat. Morty warbles out weak moans as his foggy brain tries to connect with his suddenly aroused body. He tries to stutter something to Rick, eyes locked on a man that clearly wants to take his place, but he struggles to form full words, much less full sentences, and he whines, unable to convey what he wants. EMM shushes him sweetly and peeks at Rick, who is whiteknuckled gripping the couch in his struggle to keep from touching where he wasn't invited to do so. 

The boy below him was rapidly coming to awareness, and his awkward stuttering finally includes understandable half sentences. Just as he starts to question Rick about what’s going on EMM silences him with a kiss, a simple press of the lips at first, but quickly deepening when EMM thrusts his tongue past parted lips and slides a free hand under Morty’s shirt to tease his nipples. Any uncertainty Morty may have felt was washed away under EMM’s expert tongue and fingers, enough to encourage Morty to tentatively slide his hands along EMM’s thighs. EMM grinds a little closer into Morty’s lap, meeting Morty’s growing erection with his own half chub.

  
  


Edging closer and closer to the boys is Rick, who is practically on top of them when he reaches one hand out to stroke EMM's ass and another to fondle Morty through his jeans. Rick takes his sudden, horny lapse in judgement to run his hand down EMM’s ass, then across his inner thighs to toy with the edge of his tight skirt, as if his long, bony fingers would be indistinguishable from the soft, small hands of his grandson.

“Are you fucking kidding, Rick! What did I tell you, hands off!” EMM says, slapping Rick's hands away from them between his words. His temper is sparked into a barely contained rage as he continues to shove Rick to the other end of the couch, even slipping off one of his flip-flops to drive home the point with harsh slaps. 

His ears are roaring in his anger, barely able to hear Rick trying to defending himself, “-abe, I’m- I’m sorry.. just, fuck,” Rick says, his chatter just now registering to EMM, “I gotta keep my hands busy I guess when I see- when I watch something so beautiful.” He tries to sound matter of fact, charming, nonchalant even when he says this, but instead comes across to EMM as desperate in the worst kind of way. 

“You need to keep your hands busy huh…” EMM says, digging around in his coat to produce a small baggie of bright green powder that he waves around casually. This, he hopes, will speed things up a little. “Well I got this goodie bag here, and I just don't really know what it is…” He bats his lashes in that dumb Morty kind of way, “but you seem like the type to know, Rick. How about you keep your hands busy telling me what this is?”

  
  


Rick responds by licking his lips, holding out his hand with an eager tremor and replying with a “Y-yeah, sure, anything for you, babes.” Instead of handing it to him, EMM tosses the baggie on the couch between them and Rick takes it reverently, focus shifting to the mystery powder, tearing into the baggie gently and taking quick glances back at the boys on the couch.

“Watch all you want while you stay on your side of the couch and we can all get this over with and be done with our night, mmkay?” 

When EMM turns his focus back to Morty, he is practically bursting at the seams, distress leaking out his every pore as he cries, “W-w-wha-whats going on?” EMM’s eye twitches at his obvious panic, “Im dizzy...who are you...and where…what did Rick d-drag me into?” 

His hands stay resting on EMM’s thighs, toying just under the edge of his skirt, even as his eyes start to tear up in...frustration? Confusion? Fear, maybe, EMM wasn't able to tell nor he didn't really care. He swallows a growl of annoyance and covers Morty’s mouth with his own, swallowing anymore questions and shifting his weight in a way that he grinds perfectly down on Morty’s failing erection. EMM encourages Morty’s hands to slip a little higher up his skirt and along his inner thighs as he puts his meager lap dance skills to the test. It works, sort of. Morty meets his advances, but barely, holding himself back even as he bucks up against the soft crease of EMM’s thighs. He hums his approval and takes a quick glance back at Rick to see how deep he was in his gift, and is pleased to find him nearly halfway through the baggie.  _ Yeah old man, just a few more bumps and you’ll be right where I want you.  _

Now that Morty’s dick finally starts showing some interest, EMM wiggles his way out of his lap to kneel on the floor, nose just barely nuzzling the bulge under his jeans as he pauses a beat to glance up at Morty under heavy lashes. Morty starts to stutter some sort of protest but EMM’s nimble fingers have already undone the button and zipper and yanked down his underwear, pulling his dick out before Morty can finish the first word. Beside them, they hear Rick growl a low ‘oh fuck yeah’, followed by an obnoxious sniff. Morty warbles out Rick’s name, but he gets cut off.

“If you dont shut the fuck up about Rick,” EMM huffs, “Its you and me right now Morty sweetie, and I really want you focused on me ok?” EMM finishes his sentence by spitting into his palm and starting a slow pace wrapped around Morty’s cock.

He lets out a squeaky moan, bucking into EMM’s palm, but he still tries to protest,“Bu-but I don’t even know you! I-I-I didnt say you could- I didnt want to th-oooh!” His sentence trails off into another moan as EMM runs the flat of his tongue up the underside of Morty’s dick, stopping at the head where he teases with playful wiggles of his tongue, going no further as he glances up at Morty, faux concern playing across is face before he finally pulls away.

“Ohhh you don’t want it?” He asks, feigning confusion, “Well, I can stop, if that's the case…you just seemed like you’re so into me...” EMM plays up his disappointment, his fingernails gently scraping the soft skin on Morty's belly where his shirt had ridden up. “I mean I can stop?”

Rick from beside them says “Are you really trying to say no Morty what the fuck!”

“I just dont, I-I mean I’ve never-'' Morty stutters and stumbles over a response, looking anywhere but EMM, even looking to his Rick for help, who can only pull hits up his nose, back to back, in response, looking back at him as if he is the unreasonable one. “W-what I mean is...I don’t remember how I got here? A-and its n-not you, its-”

“Uh huh, it's not you, it's me got it. I’ll stop.” EMM leans back and goes to stand, but Morty’s shout stops him

“WAIT!” surprising even himself with the volume, Morty clears his throat and tries again, “You...don't have to stop.” His face is flushed as he says this. “What uh...what's your name?”

“Aww do you gotta ask a prostitute for their name to feel better Morty?” Rick says with a heavy chuckle.

“Did you really just call me a fucking prostitute?”

“I mean...” Rick says, dragging out the word as if it was something obvious, gesturing to EMM and his outfit. EMM is having none of Rick's insults, slipping off his other flip flop and chucking it at Rick’s face, nailing him between the eyes. 

“You can just call me EMM.” He says after he is sure Rick has shut up with the insults.

“M? Like the letter ’M’?” Morty’s face scrunches up in confusion, “Like M for Morty or...M for...Miami?”

“What? What the fuck, no its not M for Morty, Jesus Christ. Like E.M.M., ” he says, spelling out the letters with a huff, “Look, am I sucking your dick or not?”

This launches Morty into another red-faced babble, which EMM ignores to pull Morty’s pants down further. He nuzzles his nose along Morty’s thighs and right up against the crease where his thigh meets his hips, darting his tongue out to graze the base of Morty’s dick. This shuts him up, other than the typical ‘oh jeez.’ EMM gives little warning before he takes him whole, swallowing around his cock with practiced ease. Morty gives a shout of pleasure, covering his face in his embarrassment.

EMM leans in to his performance, enjoying turning him to mush with his expert tongue. Uncontrolled breathy moans slip from Morty one after the other and they both know he's close already. EMM doesn't want to pull an orgasm out of him just yet though, so he pulls off with a pop after a few seconds and a sensual lick of the lips. He ghosted his fingers over Morty’s nervous belly, pulling the hem of his shirt along with him until he can pull it right over his head. Morty can't help the nervous laugh that escapes him when he is shirtless, glancing between his awkward nudity and EMM, who still has most of his clothes.

Taking notice, EMM smiles sweetly up at him and climbs up into his lap, “It's better if we do it this way, see,” once settled he lets his skirt ride up to his hips and he yanks his underwear to the side, grinding his bare ass against Morty’s dick. Morty draws in a sharp, excited gasp, mumbling a quiet, ‘oh’, letting himself buck up against EMM. “Yeah, that’s it,” EMM mutters, willing to forego any real prep and let Morty slide in dry but there is a choked gurgle behind them, then a thud, which pulls Morty out of his horny brain long enough to peek over EMM’s shoulder to find Rick slumped off the side of the couch, having landed awkwardly on the floor in a heap. 

“Rick! H-holy shit, w-wh-,” he says in a rising panic and he tries to push EMM away to check on him, but EMM tightens his thighs around Morty’s waist, shoving him back into the couch by the shoulders.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just had a little too much of that crushed bolaachrome, he’ll be ok in a few hours.” EMM says the last part while staring Rick in his glassy eyes, making sure Rick catches the drugs name. He would be ok, after a few hours of lucid paralysis of course, and Rick probably knew that. Bolaachrome is a pretty popular amongst party Ricks as a powder intended to mix with some crushed k-lax for a booster effect. Too much on its own however is  _ really  _ easy to overdose with, causing full body paralysis and mild hallucinations.

“Did you do this, EMM? W-what the fuck?”

“Oh please, he drugged you first and tried to sell you off, stop worrying about your garbage grandpa.” 

“Sell me…?” He asks, almost too softly to be heard.

“Oh yeah, like black market, underground Morty trafficking kinda selling, but lucky for you I don't do that sort of thing. That's why we're here," he whispers the last part, leaning in close to ghost his breath over his ear, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs where they were once pressed painfully into his shoulders. "Now... Can we continue? Now that Rick won’t bother us? And when we're done you can leave him behind." He nibbles on his earlobe, and doesn’t really wait for Morty to consent, reaching between them again to stroke Morty, drawing another quiet moan from him.

Taking Morty’s moan as a green light, EMM reaches into his coat and pulls out a small bottle of lube, drizzling some on his fingers and palm, then wrapping his hand around Morty’s cock again, spreading the lube generously. EMM wastes no time positioning himself over Morty, lining the head of Morty’s dick with his hole. Just as he is sinking down, just as he starts to feel the pleasant stretch, Morty cries a quick “Wait!”

“Oh my fucking god are we not gonna do this because I’ll end it right now,” EMM says, reaching for his coat again.

“No, no, we are, I just, I-I mean it's just that I’ve never done...this... before? I may not, I-I mean, I don't think-'' Morty rushes to explain himself, but EMM interrupts his endless ramble.

“Did you really just stop me to tell me you’re a virgin, Morty?”

Morty is flushed beet red, but he just nods curtly

EMM sighs loudly, resuming his descent and finally feeling the blessed fullness he's been craving all night. He sinks down as far as he can go, his ass flush against Morty’s hips as Morty groans and moans under him. “That's why I’m on top, Morty,” He gasps, rocking his hips to start a steady rhythm, “you might be a clueless virgin, but I’m not. I’m gonna take care of both of us.”

“Oh fuck, oh-oh my god!” Morty throws his head back, not expecting to be engulfed by such a tight heat so quickly. Head spinning worse than before, he can only clench his eyes shut and hold on to EMM’s thighs for dear life as EMM controls the pace. EMM rolls his hips some more, trying to find the right angle to hit that sweet spot just right, and he does, gasping when he finds it. He bounces in Mortys lap, setting a faster pace that he keeps up for a few seconds before huffing, “You can move your hips too Morty, jeez.”

“Oh,” Morty whispers and lets his hips twitch up, meeting EMMs thrusts as they awkwardly try to find a rhythm. “Should I...” Morty says, reaching down to wrap his trembling fingers around EMM’s dick. EMM lets out an encouraging moan and Morty starts stroking him the way he knows feels good. 

“Yes, fuck, good boy Morty,” EMM whispers, motivating him to get more involved. Morty's free hand roams to grip tightly at EMM’s hips, using the leverage to thrust up harder. EMM keeps up the praise and pet names and Morty attaches himself to EMM’s neck. He nuzzles along his throat, planting kisses and love bites across his collarbones.

From Rick’s spot on the floor he can see a beautiful angle of the action, mostly EMM’s exposed ass, where he and Morty are connected. From this angle he can also see EMM digging around in his coat and pulling out a syringe, holding it in the air as if to be sure Rick can see. 

Morty is too wrapped up in the tight heat surrounding him to notice EMM reaching for his coat, too close to orgasm to notice the glint of a syringe as EMM slips it into his palm. He curled around EMM, desperate to be close as he nibbles on his neck, nuzzling along his jawline and seeking out his lips. The blissful moment their lips touch he feels the sharp sting in his neck, followed by an almost immediate darkness creeping at the edges of his vision. He reaches up to clasp at the wound as EMM giggles, waving a small syringe in his face before tossing it to the side. EMM wastes no time untangling himself from Morty, and stands up to straighten out his skirt over his still prominent erection, shrugging his fur coat back on.

“Wh...what is this?” Morty asks, the dizziness coming back full force. His vision is all but a fuzzy circle when EMM answers him.

“Oh yeah, I don’t  _ buy  _ Morty’s, but I do collect them for clients who do want to buy Morty’s.” EMM smiles, and wants to explain more, maybe scare him about where he will end up, but Morty is already out, eyes rolled back and his head falling back against the couch.

Frozen on the floor Rick can only watch, helpless, as EMM collects them both for business. EMM kicks him over on his back and reaches into his blazer, “You really fucked this one up huh Rick? Y’know you really shouldn’t try to strike a deal with someone like me if you only intend on wasting time. Especially if you intend on wasting my time.” He pulls Rick's wallet out of his blazer and smiles again, "You said you were taking care of my tab, right Rick?" he says with a cruel laugh.

EMM crosses the tiny room in two steps and gives two knocks on the door, summoning two of his henchmen to the room to gather up the bodies. Before slipping out the door, he one of his Ricks, “Get in touch with my guy and tell him he’s got two coming from me and I want a fucking direct deposit this time.”

Weaving his way back to the bar, which is much more crowded than earlier, EMM finds an open spot between two Ricks and squeezes in, catching eyes with the bartender who seems happy to see him back. “Everything alright? Y-you were gone for a while...” she says with genuine concern.

EMM tosses a credit card from the Ricks wallet down on the bar and winks, “Oh yeah, sorry about the wait. But don’t worry, you’ll get a pretty tip for the time wasted.” She giggles and scans the card, waving off his apologies. Once business is taken care of, he elbows one of the Ricks next to him who can't seem to keep his eyes to himself and nods towards the dancefloor. “You gonna ask me to dance or what?” When the Rick only stutters in response, EMM rolls his eyes and slips into the crowd, leaving the man behind to flounder. Burying himself in the thickest part of the congested dance floor, he finds some other Rick and Morty pair to dance with, feeding off the beat of the music and the heat of the bodies around him. Finally, hours too late, EMM can enjoy his night and start his weekend.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Liebe and Ghosty for hosting this event !


End file.
